Page 19 of Once A Villain

I don’t respond, taking a long drink instead. The song intensifies, transforming the stage into a hellish nightmare. Music thunders through the speakers as flames erupt around the performers, creating a fiery inferno.

Rory steps offstage and saunters toward the front row, climbing onto the tables and fucking crawling on all fours, sending the audience into a frenzy. They scream and reach out, desperate for her touch.

She stops in front of a Sovereign, pressing her body against his. Locking eyes with me, she grabs his hands and puts them on her tits. He squeezes them as she sings, her lips so close to his. He’s moaning, his hands moving down her body. The metal cuts into my skin as I grip the chair.

Crawling across the table, she closes the distance, her body inches from mine. She’s so close I can smell her perfume mixed with her sweat. Her eyes are piercing, her body moving seductively.

With a deft motion, she retrieves another knife from her thigh holster, twirling it expertly between her fingers.

If she wants to play games, then let’s fucking play.

The blade moves toward my face, but at the last moment, she redirects it, driving it down into the chair between my legs. The music crescendos, and the crowd erupts into a deafening roar of cheers and applause.

She leans in, her breath hot against my ear, her voice low. “I belong to nobody.”

She gracefully steps off the table, leaving the audience on their feet, chanting her name. Just before disappearing into the smoke, she pauses, casting a smirk in my direction.

She blows a kiss to me and then vanishes.

Fuck. She’s good.

Griff laughs, his arm draped around a brunette. “Well, I’ll be fucking damned. Your girl sure knows how to put on a show. She’s quite the entertainer.”

Ignoring his comment, I rise from my seat, retrieve the knife from the chair, and tuck it into my waistband. I need a drink—make that two. Pushing through the chaotic room filled with Sovereign members drinking and conversing loudly, I head straight for the bar. Ordering a whiskey, I down it in one gulp.

“I belong to nobody.”

No, Rory Valentine belongs to me. Her little stunt won’t go unpunished. She’s testing her limits, and I won’t tolerate her games.

If she wants to play rough, she’s about to learn what happens when you toy with a killer.

“Rory, you were amazing,” Lana gushes, her voice giddy. She’s smiling, cheeks flushed. “Your routine was so sexy, I could barely contain myself. My panties were soaked!”

We throw our arms around each other, laughing. She’s not wrong. That final routine was something else.

The Pavilion nightclub is dimly lit, with neon lights illuminating the space. The bass thumps through the air, and the dance floor is packed with energetic bodies. She raises a shot glass off the bar counter, and we clink our drinks, throwing back the shots. The tequila burns as it goes down, but I welcome the sensation.

“Babe! You killed it out there!”

I turn to find my best friend, Kyla, beaming at me. Her signature black leather leggings hug her legs, paired with a crop top that shows off her toned stomach.

Her edgy pixie cut frames her face, and her dark eyes, rimmed with thick black liner, sparkle with pride. Kyla used to be a Siren before stepping away when she became pregnant a few years ago. “I swear, the audience almost had a fucking orgasm.” She pulls me into a tight hug. “You were so badass! That knife throw, holy shit!”

“Thanks, Ky.” I laugh. “That last song was such a rush. I’m still shaking!”

Lana pulls us to the dance floor, and Kyla drapes her arms around my neck, leaning into my ear to shout over the music.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re getting married?! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. You know I’m your best friend, right?” She gives me a fake pouty look, and I roll my eyes playfully.

There is nothing to be excited about, and I don’t want to spoil my evening with the depressing reality of being forced to marry a stranger.

“Married to Axel Hawthorne. You lucky bitch. He’s so fucking hot, and he’s like Sovereign royalty,” she continues, her voice filled with excitement. I laugh, trying to play it cool, but inside, my stomach knots at the thought.

“What do you actually know about him?”

Kyla’s more involved in the Sovereigns’ business than most Servants, because of her son’s father. He’s high-ranking, they’re not together—he just wanted a son, and she was the Servant he chose to carry him.

“Well, the Sluts lucky enough to fuck him won’t shut up about him. He’s apparently hung like a horse and a god in the bedroom. I’ve never seen him at the Pavilion, though. He doesn’t seem like the type who would come here. He must have come tonight just to see you. That was some crazy shit, though.” She giggles. “I saw the way you looked at him. Like you wanted to devour him or murder him. Either one would have been hot. You guys gonna fuck before the wedding?”

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